


beginnings and endings

by MMonster



Series: To Learn to Be Human [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Civil War, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Literal Sleeping Together, Self-Discovery, Sexuality, Sleeping Together, Slow Romance, kind of, though not lovers yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: Wanda wakes up disheveled and with a slightly swollen face, just as daylight begins its invasion of the room through the gaps between the drapes. Her eyes blink at Vision, unfocused, but as soon as her still somewhat slumbering brain catches up to the visual information, she smiles at him.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: To Learn to Be Human [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197062
Comments: 15
Kudos: 73





	beginnings and endings

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before 'of surprises and discoveries and after 'that which you look at for no reason at all', but I don't think you need to have read either of these to understand this one, and the timeline is made clear in the story.

Spilling over the sheets, long curls cascade down her back in a mess of ordered chaos, their shape and position at once mathematically determined and a small evidence of the intrinsic nature of entropy. Her every slow, steady breath moves them minimally, and even though Vision has read that humans tend to change positions at least thrice during a full cycle of sleep, Wanda lies in stillness most of the night.

But even slumbering Wanda presents a fascinating image. Vision fails to contain himself and captures a particularly perfect curl between his fingers, pulling at its end just enough to test its springiness. Though his touch is dulled by a minor teak in his density in an attempt to not disturb his sleeping bed partner, Wanda inevitably stirs. Tiredly sighing, she pushes herself until she’s lying on her back.

Eyes not even opening, her hands fumble towards him. When they slide over the smoothness of his artificial skin, one latches to his shoulder, the other to his waist. Then, she pulls, turning to lay on her side until her face is nestled against his throat. Her feet had been exposed to the air, peeking beneath the covers, so they feel chilly when they slide over his calves to burrow between his legs.

Wanda soon settles against him again, lax arms holding him to her. Carefully, Vision turns his body to a slight angle, allowing her weight to rest on him in what he hopes is a more comfortable position for her. She sighs, content, and in another pulse of impulsiveness, he allows himself to bury his hand in her hair, right until his palm holds her head tentatively. She does not move, and so Vision closes his eyes to better savor the many points of sensory input.

Though he could allow his artificial slumber to take over until she’s awake again, both in a way to pass time and to run the operations that he needs a more considerable amount of processing power devoted to, Vision chooses to stay present. With her pressed against him, he realizes that Wanda moves most of the night, tiny twitches and adjustments, small alterations to where her weight rests at any given time. Her breathing changes according to her sleep cycle, and he knows exactly when she reaches REM sleep because her eyes move beneath her eyelids. She mumbles when she dreams, and though most of the words are indiscernible, Vision feels privileged to be allowed this intimacy.

Wanda wakes up disheveled and with a slightly swollen face, just as daylight begins its invasion of the room through the gaps between the drapes. Her eyes blink at him, unfocused, but as soon as her still somewhat slumbering brain catches up to the visual information, she smiles at him, then proceeds to return to their previous configuration of her holding on to him. Vision modulates his voice as to not startle her.

“Do you wish to sleep more?” He asks her softly. Wanda hums a negative answer against his throat. “Would you like me to get you breakfast?” He offers, then.

Again, a ‘hm-hm’ sound he has learned means ‘no’. Confused, he waits for Wanda to decide their next course of action, but as the seconds tickle by and she seems happy to just lay against him, he gets more and more uncertain. It is, after all, the first time they sleep together. Though not in the way humans use that phrase.

“You smell nice.” Her voice is rough with disuse and the words are muffled against his skin.

Taken aback by the compliment, Vision waits too long to answer, and so Wanda speaks again.

“And you’re warm.” Vision stays very still when she pulls him even closer at that. He can feel her lips against his throat now, the soft pressure of human breasts against his chest.

“I-uh. I can alter my temperature as needed. I thought you would appreciate something within the 40º C range.” He explains. “I can change it, if you so desire.”

“No, this is perfect.” Wanda says. Something warm and soft spreads through Vision at these simple words, a feeling he preemptively calls contentment.

Now that she’s awake and aware enough to answer him, he can’t help but ask something that plagued him most of the night.

“Wanda, may I, well, I guess the word would be ‘play’, with your hair?” He fumbles over his words. Wanda, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on his anxiety. She nods.

Vision exhales, relieved and also excited that he finally gets to freely touch this part of her he has been inexplicably drawn to since what feels like forever. His fingers run down between silky strands of nut-brown hair, soft and smooth to the touch. Her loose curls are lightly pulled, some losing their shape while others spring back right after his hand has passed them by. Surprisingly, Vision notices that disturbing the hair releases more of its aroma in the air, both the artificial, but pleasant, flowery perfume of her shampoo and that mysterious, sweet scent that he can immediately identify as simply Wanda.

She hums, long and low, and Vision stills momentarily, not having heard this particular variation of the sound from her yet.

“Is this alright?” He checks in with her, before continuing his ministrations.

“It feels nice.” She sighs. “My mother used to put me to sleep like this when I was small.”

“Does that mean you enjoy it?” He asks, to be sure.

Wanda nods again, and so he continues his exploration to both of their delights. Her breath is slow and warm against him, and Vision believes she may be falling into slumber again by how still and relaxed she stays in his arms. Until, a few minutes later and to his great disappointment, she untangles from him, pulling away. She smiles apologetically.

“I need to use the bathroom.” With that, she patters towards the door, leaving Vision behind to cooling sheets that smell like her.

Uncertain of the protocol, or if there’s even one, he rises from the bed. To give himself something to do until she returns, he neatly tidies up the covers, mind whirring with thoughts of Wanda and his relationship with her. His conversation with Mr. Stark a few weeks back comes to mind; particularly his words about people assuming he wouldn’t have interest in “a squishy, carbon-based being plagued with icky human functions.”.

Vision is a carbon-based being as well, though Stark surely knew that when he spoke. He can guess the word ‘squishy’ referred to the vulnerable nature of humans, easily hurt and lost. Wanda, however, has proven herself stronger than most; not unyielding, but because of that, harder to break. She also has powers that are arguably stronger than even his own, and with further potential for growth. Despite this, and assuming she can lead a healthy, safe life, she will invariably age and therefore die, so perhaps that’s what Stark meant. But Vision wasn’t lying when he told Ultron in his final moments that the point isn’t in eternity.

All that is left as the main reason why others, and perhaps Wanda herself, would assume Vision is uninterested in – or even incapable of – romantic endeavor is, therefore, said “icky human functions.”. The word ‘complex’ barely begins to describe human sexuality and, despite possessing a wealth of technical knowledge on the biological facet of that subject, it’s something that Vision can admit is still very much a mystery to him.

There are contradictory tendencies he has observed in his own composition and behavior; he was not born with any kind of reproductive or sexually stimulative organs and has never experienced the kind of feedback those can provide, but he does derive his own kind of pleasure from human contact. Not any type of contact, however, as he wouldn’t say being punched is in any way pleasant. But there’s definitely a layer and variety to the input he receives when it comes to being touched.

The way the Captain will occasionally pat his shoulder after a particularly well-executed training exercise generates a feeling of companionship to him and the team, and can therefore be described as positive. But it in no way resembles his body’s response to most of Wanda’s touches. And, even then, there are some that are vaguely pleasant – like a brief pat on his arm to call his attention – and some that surprise and confuse him with how intensely they make him feel.

An example could be found the night before. A cold Saturday in which they sat together most of the afternoon, talking and watching TV in turns, with pauses for Wanda to eat or use the bathroom. She sat unnecessarily close to him and, at one point, their arms touched. It was nice, more so than most human touch he has experienced so far. But when Wanda suddenly seemed to decide she would be more comfortable with her head resting on his shoulder, the feeling it caused was disproportionally intense. Something he still isn’t sure what to call, but that he would definitely like to feel again.

Whatever it was, it made itself known often throughout the evening and night as well. Sometime after midnight, Wanda seemed to get quieter and quieter, until her body relaxed against his and she fell asleep. However, when Vision tried to leave her to her slumber, slowly phasing down and out of the bed, Wanda immediately noticed the lack of his concrete presence. Blinking sleepy, but aware eyes on him, she asked him to stay. The way she held onto his arm as soon as he was solid enough for her to do so was keenly felt by him, something she had done before that, in this context, could be felt _more_.

“You didn’t need to do that.” The soft voice of the young woman plaguing his thoughts finally pulls Vision out of them. He turns to see her stride towards him.

When she’s close enough, she takes his hand in hers and looks up at him with soft eyes.

“Thank you for staying.”

“It was my pleasure.” He responds, to which she smiles. “I could bring you something to eat, if you would like.”

“I’ve hogged you long enough, I’m sure you have your own things to do.” She says.

She isn’t wrong. Stark messaged him the day before asking him to stop by the Tower to help him test a new A.I.-proof firewall for his systems, and Vision promised to make the trip this week. He would also like some time to go over a strategy problem Captain Rogers gave him after the last training exercise, something with such unique ingenuity that there isn’t a ready answer in his database for it, and so requires some actual thought. A list of activities that he both should and would like to accomplish in the next few days runs in a millisecond over his mind, but his inducement to do any of them pales in comparison to his desire to stay right where he is.

“Nothing pressing.” He responds, truthfully. “Though, perhaps, if you do, or if you simply wish for some time alone, I will be on my way.”

“I hate being alone.” Is her prompt, quick answer. She sits on the bed, then flops back onto it. “I used to get so annoyed at Pietro because he would follow me everywhere, ever since we were little. Now I can barely sleep without him in the room.”

“I’m sorry.” Vision says, then perches himself on the bed as well, and watches as Wanda frowns to the ceiling. Occasionally, she will volunteer information about her brother, her family, and her past. Knowing how difficult it is for her to remember the tragic end of those she loved, Vision does his best to give her space to talk when and if she wishes.

Clear, ocean green eyes flit to his. The smile that pulls at her lips is small, sincere, and sad.

“It was nice, having you here. It helped.” Before Vision can comment, she continues. “Did you sleep well?”

She reaches a hand to hold on to his, then, which he gratefully allows.

“I don’t require as much sleep as humans, only a few hours per week to run core operations.” He explains.

At that, Wanda frowns worriedly.

“So, you stayed awake the whole night?” He nods and she stares at him.

Just as he’s beginning to worry that he may have done or said something wrong, Wanda lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head.

“That would be weird if any other man did it.” At his worried frown, she smiles wider. “I hope it wasn’t boring for you.”

“No, not boring. I apologize if I did something inappropriate.” Chastened, Vision drops his eyes.

She calls his attention back to her by pulling his hand.

“Was it nice?” She inquires.

Vision barely needs half a thought to answer that question.

“Yes. It was… peaceful.” He responds earnestly.

“Then, it’s okay. I invited you, and I should have known you don’t need as much sleep.”

“Why would you know that?” He asks, curious.

“I can always tell when people are sleeping, and I think I’ve never caught you asleep while I was awake.”

Vision nods his agreement, when he does sleep, he tries to follow human hours. Considering 2-4 hours are enough for him, he falls asleep later than the others and wakes up earlier.

“Wanda?” He calls her name, unnecessarily, but in an attempt to organize his thoughts before he continues. “The intricacies of human interaction sometimes elude me. I’m not always able to tell when I’m behaving in an inappropriate manner, or how others may take what I do and say.” He pauses, thinking very hard about his next words. “What I mean to ask is, well, if you understand our… relationship the same way as I do?”

Wanda sits up then, studying his face intently. Her forehead is marred by a small frown.

“And how do you understand our relationship?” She throws the question back at him.

Vision’s mouth opens and closes as he flounders with his words, afraid to be presumptuous or to reveal his glaring inability to understand this thing that seems to be so very instinctive for most humans. He settles for something he knows to be true.

“We are friends.” He states, closely watching Wanda’s face for her reaction to his words. “But, I feel that, I mean, on my part-” He takes a deep, calming breath. “I can say that what I feel for you can’t be contained in the definition of the word ‘friendship.’” Were he physically able of such, his heart would be climbing out of his chest in nervousness. “I believe- I know it is at once different and deeper than such.”

Wanda, whose expressive face he has slowly learned to read, stays quiet and still, eyes studying him keenly.

“Different, how?” The edge of her accent deepens, lending an intimate, rougher quality to her voice.

Vision takes a moment to think. He raises his free hand, telegraphing his movement clearly as he captures a lock of hair between his thumb and index finger. Abandoning it in favor of another destination, he allows his hand to rise further, so that he can touch tentative fingertips on the smooth skin of her face, tracing the edge of her beautifully drawn jawline.

“I am not quite sure.” He answers honestly. When Wanda leans into his touch, eyes falling closed for a moment, he caresses her skin with a careful, crimson digit. “Looking at you feels… good. Touching you feels better. I find myself missing your presence every second you are away, and being close to you is always a delight.”

Her eyes open then, glimmering green depths Vision could lose himself in. The weight to her expression is unlike anything he has seen in her before. Her pink, beautifully shaped lips part minutely, allowing pearly-white teeth to worry at them. Vision watches, enthralled, as they release, leaving behind moisture that glimmers slightly on her lips.

He's caught completely by surprise when she moves towards him. The moment stretches itself, his awareness of it would permit him to do a hundred things before it was over, but his brain stutters to a halting stop. Unimpeded, Wanda completes the motion, pushing her lips against his, eyes closed. Vision feels like he has unlearned how to move, or think. His brain focuses on the feel of her impossibly soft lips against his, on the smell of her hair, the way she’s still holding his hand.

He doesn’t know what to do and so he stays perfectly still for too long. Wanda pulls back, cheeks rosy, eyes fleeing from his.

“I’m sorry.” She says then, and Vision struggles against his own overwhelming barrage of emotion in order to understand why she suddenly seems ashamed.

“For what?” He’s dizzy, confused, and still very much nervous. But he knows, absolutely knows, that the feel of Wanda’s lips against his was the best thing he has ever experienced.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I-I assumed, by what you were saying that, you know.” They are in her room, and he knows Wanda well enough to realize that, if they weren’t, she would be making her escape right about now.

“Wanda…” He pulls lightly on her chin, asking her to look at him. Vision has a hundred things he wants to say, a thousand of half-formed thoughts that he would like to share. However, the words that escape his lips before he can overthink them are the truest of all. “May I kiss you again?”

To his great relief, she nods.

* * *

Vision doesn’t have nightmares. But if he did, this would most certainly be one.

Wanda, hurt by the sound blast Colonel Rhodes was forced to employ, stays on the ground. She’s a criminal, misguided by the Captain’s beliefs and her loyalty to him. Or, perhaps, Vision is the one who has been led astray, drawn to a logic that he should have known better than to trust, for the human element is unpredictable. Unable to convince himself to do otherwise, he levitates towards her, cradles her body against his.

“I’m sorry.” He tells Wanda, because she’s hurt and they are on opposing sides. Because he should have known better than to conspire with Stark to trade her freedom for her safety. Because, despite his photographic memory and unequaled processing capability, he was a fool.

“Me, too.” She’s still out-of-breath. The guardedness in her gaze as she looks at him hurts in a way that’s no less sharp for its lack of physicality.

“It’s as I said. Catastrophe.”

Moments later, his words are proven true in such a ruthless way that it makes Vision wish, for the first time ever, that he could go back. That he could return to that morning at the compound, the one last weekend when Wanda kissed him, and never leave. The consequences that await them all for this are dire; no loss of life, but the loss of something that feels just as precious.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda meant for this to be smut? Vision is such a fool in love, though. I'm very soft for this pairing, guys. Also, Vision uses Celsius and the Metric system in my headcanon because he's a rational being, and Wanda is European, so she should understand metric better.
> 
> Feedback feeds my 9 children, people. I'm joking, I don't have kids. It still feeds me, though!


End file.
